


Progression

by yawworht17



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 11:04:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10615581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yawworht17/pseuds/yawworht17
Summary: How the relationship evolves. (I'm new here!)





	

First she had thought Jillian Holtzmann was a lunatic.

Nonplussed enough to keep eating in front of a ghost, nonchalant enough to routinely set fires, she seemed calm in the hectic moments and crazed in the calm moments. Whose company had Abby fallen into? It was hard to take your eyes off of her.

Then she had thought that Jillian Holtzmann was brilliant.

Their engineer was a joyful whirlwind until she was absorbed by her latest project. Then, her frenetic energy was distilled into an intense focus, grin sliding away and brow furrowing in concentration. She would forgot to eat, or ate whatever they passed her, unquestioning and uninterested. It was even harder to take your eyes off of her.

Now she was pretty sure Jillian Holtzmann was a brilliant lunatic.

…

From the moment the highly-strung, tightly wound, neatly done-up professor had walked into that cozy, homey, but (admittedly) shitty lab, Jillian Holtzmann’s fingertips had twitched with the familiar impulse to take something apart.

At first, it was out of loyalty to Abby. Clearly, this gal had done her wrong.

Then, it was out of innate curiosity. That’s what she did… she took things apart to see how they worked. How they were put together. In this case, how they were perhaps overly ‘put together.’

But then, she saw the rare glimpses of joyful, excited Erin Gilbert. Her whispered delight at finishing a proof, her dorky dancing. Holtz like this dancing version of her friend, and she was starting to suspect that Erin might, too.

Yes, she wanted to dismantle that exterior out of curiosity… but also out of affection.

…

Sometimes even the most brilliant lunatics (most lunatic geniuses?) got frustrated, apparently.

Buried in a new set of papers at her desk, Erin heard a strangled grunt from across the lab.

“Holtz.”

“Mhupmf.”

“Go lie down.”

“Not done.”

“Weren’t you close an hour ago?”

“Everything got a little bit… melted.”

“GO LIE DOWN.”

Erin earned a dramatic eyeroll and theatrical stagger across the room before Holtz fell face-first onto Kevin’s nap couch. She smiled at her papers, in spite of herself.

“Sleep well.”

Thirty minutes later, she became aware of a humming. Setting aside her pencil, she pushed away from the desk and wandered across the room. She reflexively glanced at the fire extinguisher before checking Holtz’ workspace first, because… well, gotta go with the odds. Peering around the corner, she could see the toes of Holtz’ boots clicking together, as the engineer hummed to herself, eyes closed.

“Full brain?” she asked.

“Mhumphhhh,” came the frustrated reply.

Looking down, she could see the brow furrowed.

Erin sighed, walking down to tug off Holtzmann’s boots. “Think of the couch.”

“Holtzmann, you’ve got to step back for a bit…”

“Look who’s talking,” was the muttered reply, as the humming increased in volume.

“Fair point,” Erin sighed, sinking down onto the couch as she set the boots down.

Holtz shifted over onto her side, an eye opening a crack and an eyebrow sliding up. She slid her palm over the vacant slice of the couch in mock enticement. Maybe because she hadn’t realized how tired she was before sitting down, or maybe because the couch felt so damn warm (Holtz was like a furnace), but Erin sank down onto her side with only the briefest hesitation.

Holtz scooched over to make more room, wrapping her arms around Erin’s waist. Erin buried her face in the tangle of blonde (and slightly sweaty) hair, involuntarily breathing deeply. She flinched and stiffened, suddenly aware of the closeness, as Holtzmann gave her a squeeze around the middle. She relaxed slightly as she felt the slow rise and fall of Holtzmann’s ribs against her body.

“Wasn’t done,” Erin sighed in feeble protest.

“Neither was I,” Holtzmann murmured, drifting off.

“But my work doesn’t cause explosions,” Erin smiled into her hair.

“They’re almost always on purpose. Scared?”

“Perhaps,” Erin whispered honestly into the top of her head.

…

Holtz was finding excuses.

She found excuses to wiggle closer in the booth as they ate lunch, or nudge Erin as she bent over the latest and greatest (and no longer melted) ghost trap upgrades. The nervous laughs seemed to be further apart, and Holtz had caught her bobbing along to the music from her workstation. She had to duck to hide her smile.

It had been since they couch, she figures. Erin had dozed, but Holtz had risen from a dead slumber several hours later, finding herself carefully tucked under a lab coat. The temperature between them had changed, almost imperceptibly.

Holtz was used to purposefully raking her eyes over Erin’s body. It was for… dramatic effect. Calculated. Impulsive, but precisely calibrated to get a reaction. Like throwing on a funny wig. Or smashing a guitar (OK, maybe she had gotten carried away that time). But now, as she slid over to peer at the paper Erin was holding she found her eyes wandering down the V of her sweater.

Whenever Holtz successfully connected with someone – via a wink, or an invention - it had been a rush. But now, as she felt the heat radiating off the forearm leaning next to hers, or the casual brush of fingertips across her shoulder, she could practically feel herself short-circuiting.


End file.
